


Plenary

by rotosalt (orphan_account)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: But its not like anything major, Its just kinda there, Like theres mentions of the ships, this isn't really either ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rotosalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler has a break down and meets Josh in the bathroom. Probably doesn't need the mature rating, but I just want to be sure, ya know. </p><p>It's just a crappy thing I wrote at three am.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plenary

The car is completely and utterly silent. The silence serves no purpose. He presses the button on his radio in and static fills his ears. He hardly even notices that no music is playing.

When Tyler had first met Jenna he had thought he'd marry her. He admired the gentle curves of her sides, and the slope of her nose, the colour of her eyes. He admired her soft laugh and soft voice, the way she smiled and the way she frowned. He had thought that he would never feel anything for her other than pure adoration. That every day would feel like the first and that every day he would be able to look at her and feel overwhelmed by love.

But he wasn't so sure anymore.

Love isn't supposed to feel this way. When he looked at her he wanted to feel fireworks in the pit of his stomach. He wanted hold-me-close and love-me-harder. She gave him soft and sweet. He wanted late night bruises and dark tuesday mornings.

The static continues to fill his ears, now it's louder. He's able to ignore it still, the noise remaining background.

He was bored with their relationship. She was everything he'd ever been told to want. She was everything he'd thought he wanted. She was beautiful and charming and funny and intelligent. When he thought of her he thought of white picket fences in suburban neighborhoods. He thought of two kids on a playground, a boy and a girl. He thought of red wine and a fireplace. Honeymooning in Hawaii. Church on Sundays. She made him think of freshly cut grass and lemonade.

But no matter how desperately he tried to picture himself with her in the future he couldn't. All of these things she made him think of clash in his mind. They just don't fit, he feels like he's trying to put together a puzzle but all of the pieces are from different pictures.

The static is louder now, he does not notice that his fingers rest on the volume dial. That he is developing a headache and the static continues to get louder.

His door is closed but he falls out of it as the static becomes foreground. He isn't swimming in his thoughts, he's drowning in them and his tongue will not move to form words, it will only sit there, limp in his mouth while somewhere in this ocean of thought the word "help" surfaces.

It floats lifelessly, once something meaningful, now just a hollow shell, a corpse. A new word replaces "help." The word is "sorry" and it's just as lifeless but it's less of a corpse and more of a zombie. The word replicates itself until it surrounds him. He's not drowning anymore, he's being smothered. But he won't suffocate, because the zombie is closing in on him, it attacks and his mind goes numb.

There is a tap on his window. His mouth hangs open. The static is deafening.

It's his mother. Her nails click on the glass.

"Tyler, honey, are you going to get out? We're waiting for you inside the church."

He doesn't know how to respond, and even if he did he cannot. He mouth is dry and his lips are cracked.

He simply opens the door and steps out.

His head buzzes as he enters the building. The pastor talks far too loudly and he has to excuse himself to the bathroom. Jenna's hand covers his quickly as he stands up. She gives him a look, a caring look, one filled with worry, but he dismisses her quickly and shrugs her hand off.

In the bathroom his head continues to throb. The white walls of the room scream and begin to close in on him. He's never felt this way before, and he's not entirely sure what brought it on.

He breathes in deeply. He grips his knees and his knuckles turn white. A few more deep breaths and he's just sitting against the wall. There's a sharp knock on the door after about ten minutes, and a soft voice identifying the knocker.

"Tyler? Are you okay? We're going home now."

It had been a lot longer than ten minutes.

His voice, in contrast to hers, was shaky and barely there.

"Alright, I'll be out in a moment."

His feet ache once he stands on them. He looks in the mirror at himself. His face and lips and eyes are red. Brown orbs shine, wet with tears. He braces himself against the sink, flicks the faucet on and lets his hands be covered in water.

A stall clicks behind him and a head peeks out. His vocal chords close up and his mouth falls open to try and force something to come out.

"No, no, no, no. It's fine. No need to explain. I'm sorry for not telling you I was in here."

Tyler tries to smile but his lips crack and his face falters.

"It's okay."

The boy smiles back at him. His smile is like expensive ice scream, smooth and enticing. He's got thick, dark curls and white teeth. When he stares back at Tyler his eyes are welcoming. They're not just brown, they're melted dark chocolate, they're the bark of a pine tree, they're black coffee and sweet cake all at the same time. He wants to wrap himself in that colour, to completely envelop himself in it to the point of no return.

Wants to die blanketed in the warmth he gets from the artificial light hitting his eyes just so.

The boy shifts under his gaze. Not uncomfortably, just in a way that portrays his confusion.

Tyler's mouth hangs open a little, crooked bottom teeth revealed. "Sorry, you're just really...something. You really are something."

He grins and it's perfect. He can vaguely remember a feeling like this from when he first met Jenna.

"That's incredibly descriptive. Anyway, I'm Josh."

"Hi."

"Well, _Tyler_ , I suppose you should get going." He clears his throat and looks to the side. Tyler hadn't heard a single word after his name. He was too busy admiring the way it fell from his pink lips, the way his tongue curled and pressed to his teeth. "Guess Jen's your girlfriend or something. Wonder why she didn't tell me. She's your girlfriend, yeah?"

"No."

"That was a surprising answer."

"I mean she's my girlfriend but-"

"Are you sure, because you sure did answer pretty quickly."

Tyler pauses and plays with the hem of his jacket.

"I've got to go. Goodbye, Josh."

He opens the bathroom door. Jenna is standing there. She reaches out to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers.

He hears the click of the door as her lips meet his.

As Josh shuffles past them his mind sends him flashes of that colour. That beautiful colour.

His eyes are nothing like Jenna's. Her's are icy blue, like frozen ponds and popsicles. They're somehow cold and warm at the same time. Like a pool during the summer. He likes them. But he likes Josh's too.

She pulls away from him and drags him out of thr building.

"Jenna, wait-"

"Wait for what? You love me don't you? You trust me?"

He's silent and she releases his wrist, mouth gaping.

"Yeah. Yes, I mean."

He clears his throat. "Then just follow me, okay?"

"Jenna..."

"Please?"

She sighs and stares at him.

"Fine." She leads him to her car, gesturing for him to get into the passenger seat. He glances over to where his car is parked.

"We can come back and get it."

"That's a waste of gas."

"Tyler."

He hangs onto the thought that he wants to follow her, wants to get into the car and give her everything she wants.

But the thread holding him in place snaps when she does. Her hand is in front of his face, fingers paused in a snapping motion.

"You know what. I'm done. I can't anymore. I just can't. Jenna, I don't think I do love you anymore. I know I did at one point. I know I loved you. I loved you so much it hurt. But I'm not sure anymore."

"How can you not be sure?"

"Because I still love you. Just not in the same way, I think."

"Tell me. Tell me everything."

"When I first met you I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid my eyes on. I thought you were _divine_. Like God had put you together piece by piece and decided he would only use the best parts. Like your entire being was created to be something beautiful."

"Keep going."

"I thought that every day I would fall more in love with you. And that every time I saw you I'd get that same spark as the first time. That my stomach would always be in knots. I thought that you were so out of my league. That someone so perfect would never love something like myself. I stopped considering myself human because you'd always told me that you were only human and I knew that there was no way we could be the same species. I'm not sure what I thought I was, I just knew I didn't deserve to be in your presence."

"How about now? How do you feel now?"

"Empty. I'm not sure. I feel like I've exhausted myself. I'm tired. I feel lonely even when I'm laying next to you. I know that I still love you. I just don't think I love you the way I used to."

"Did I do something wrong?"

Her eyes are watering and her lips tremble as she speaks. He can tell she's trying desperately not to cry. Her shoulders are still held back and she tries to keep her voice firm.

"No, no, no. Of course not. It's my fault. I was right, you know. I don't deserve you. You deserve so much more than me. You deserve the universe and more. You deserve the heavens, you deserve to have angels bow to you."

She starts crying and he isn't sure what to do. A door closes and he looks up to see Josh walking over.

His footsteps are rushed and his hair blows in the wind.

"Dude, what the hell? Why is she crying like that?"

He doesn't know how to respond. He doesn't even know how to open his mouth.

He doesn't know anything anymore.

"I-it's fine, Josh. He didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"Then why are you crying, Jen?"

"It's complicated."

"I've got time."

Jenna sits down on the grass and they both follow suit. They sit there for twenty minutes while Jenna makes an attempt at explaining everything to Josh.

It really isn't that complicated, just twisted and long. Tyler can think of several ways it could have been explained in a sentence.

" _Josh's eyes and lips and smile give me heart palpitations_." Is his favorite.

It feels like it'd melt in his mouth, fall right off of his tongue.

He remembers when Josh smiled and he'd thought that he'd felt like this with Jenna.

He was wrong. Oh, god he was so wrong. This was so much different. And maybe, he thought, maybe it was because Josh was so much different from her.

Where she was smooth and curvy, Josh was rough and jagged. Josh had brown eyes and brown hair and thin light pink lips and the beginnings of a beard. Jenna had blue eyes and blonde hair and perfect teeth and hairless skin.

Josh was a _man_ and Jenna, she was a woman, plain and simple.

He stares as Josh. He is in love.

It takes him two years, six months, seventeen days, three hours, twenty-five minutes, and four seconds to realize that he hadn't  loved Josh, at least not then. He was in love with the thought of him. With the change in characteristics, the rebellion of it all. And most importantly, he was in love with that moment in the bathroom, where he'd felt like everything was falling apart and meeting Josh had put it back together.

He lies awake tonight, next to Josh who sleeps peacefully, mouth hung open. He purses his lips.

Josh was never different from Jenna. Josh was different from him. Josh was sandpaper to smooth his jagged edges, he was the forgiveness to Tyler's apologies. He was the one puzzle piece in the entire box that came from the same picture as he did.

He knew now why he never felt quite right with Jenna.

Sometimes puzzle pieces slot together correctly, but that doesn't mean they make up the same picture.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is just some crap I wrote at like three this morning. It seems like it fits into an actual story if you ask me, but alas, this is it. I'm not very good at writing long things. I can get about 2000 words in before I feel like I've gotten enough to end. Not to mention I get very brief moments of inspiration, like from a song or something. But they never last very long.
> 
> That's why normally my stuff gets progressively shittier.
> 
> This entire writing probably didn't make sense, and my note probably doesn't make sense, but whatever. I hope you liked it, even if you think it sounds like some kind of excerpt. To that person who requested that I write more to Point, I'm working on it. But like I said, brief moments of inspiration. I hope you see that otherwise it'll just be like "what is grandma on about now, put your teeth in, grandma, your grandchildren are here to see you."


End file.
